Strange Things Happen at Midnight
by son-of-bacchus
Summary: Eleanor escapes from Rapture with her new little sisters in tow and thinks she's finally going to live the normal, quiet life of a surfacer. Instead, she finds herself living with a new set of characters, in a small village that's not quite what it seems!
1. Beyond the Sea

Eleanor gripped her fists tightly, suddenly nervous. She looked down at the eight little girls huddled close around her and remembered why she had turned up at the old saltbox. They had escaped that underwater hell, braved the brutal North Atlantic seas, and had survived one of the worst storms of that season. To think that Eleanor, the People's Daughter, was frightened of knocking on a complete stranger's door was preposterous! Yet she stood there, seized with dread and fear. She felt Delta lingering in the back of her mind. His reassuring presence only made her more miserable. What was the point of injecting herself with the essence of the greatest, bravest man she knew, if she was so scared to approach a harmless surfacer?

"Come on, Eleanor, it's chilly!" cried one of the girls. Even with the amount of conditioning they had undergone, the girls were poorly dressed for the below-zero conditions, and without proper shoes at that. Eleanor took in a sharp breath and delivered a few rapid thumps to the door, then stepped back and waited, fearing the worst. She heard a few distant voices, then the approaching footsteps, and readied herself to attack in defense.

The door creaked loudly and swung open with a bang, clanking against the white lights hanging from the snow-covered roof. Eleanor, startled, gave a short yelp, then clapped a gloved hand over her mouth in embarrassment. It was a man, perhaps in his early forties. It had been so long since she had seen someone who hadn't been spliced-up beyond recognition, she didn't know what to expect. He wore a thick red sweater and khaki cords tucked into work boots. His face was kind, surprisingly handsome considering his age, his dark blond hair peeking out of his tweed hunting cap. He chucked warmly and opened the door further to let them in.

"My apologies for the door, it could use a fixing." He smiled down at the girls. "You must be freezing! Why don't you littluns settle yourselves by the fire?" he asked, gesturing towards the flickering flames in the corner of the room. With a collective squeal, the girls darted past him and dove into the woven rug by the fireplace, giggling and whispering among themselves.

Eleanor shuffled in quietly after the girls, keeping her eyes intensely focused on the man's face. She found no hidden malice in his expression, but remained alert nonetheless. She could feel Delta's ghostly embrace protecting her, yet she couldn't help but feel unsettled.

"Now, would you like to tell me why you're wearing a diving suit, when it is clearly as cold as all hell out there?" he asked kindly. He smiled again. Something about the crinkling of his eyes when he smiled made her trust this man. Had Dr. Lamb ever smiled? Now that she thought about it, Eleanor couldn't recall it. The rare smiles Lamb delivered were cool and calculated – there was nothing warm about them. This man's gentle smile seemed genuine, and Eleanor felt suddenly comforted.

As she pondered these thoughts, the man turned towards the stairs, craning his neck around the rail. "Missus Taylor! We've a guest come to stay!" He faced Eleanor. "Missus Taylor will help sort you out with some nice clothes. She's a real nice lady, you'll see." He was already walking away as he called over his shoulder, "I'm going to help Maisie out in the kitchen – you'll meet Maisie soon, she's a young'un like you – fix something up for you and your sisters." Before Eleanor could respond, he was gone, and a tall, stately woman had descended upon her.

So this was Taylor. She was middle-aged, noticed Eleanor, but tall, taller than any other woman she knew. Dr. Lamb was a good six feet tall, so this woman had to be at least three or four inches taller than that. Once she had come to the bottom of the stairs, Eleanor realized that she was not actually as tall as she seemed. It was the way she carried herself that made her appear so grand. Looking at her now, she seemed to be no more than five foot nine at most. This did little to diminish her position, however. The woman loomed over Eleanor in her nightgown, eyeing her up and down. Eleanor straightened up, but felt like shrinking into the floor under the power of this woman's intense gaze.

"No, no, this will _not_ do!" she exclaimed loudly, surprising Eleanor. She peered at her through thick spectacles. "What are you called, _dear_?"

"Eleanor, Eleanor Lamb." Eleanor willed her voice not to waver. These were surfacers, there was nothing to fear. With this thought, she steeled herself and continued. "And these are my sisters, Missus Taylor," she said, nodding at the girls playing happily by the fire.

"Mm, yes, well. I am Madam to you, Eleanor Lamb." She tutted disapprovingly as she took in Eleanor's defiant stance and her Big Sister suit. "Come up with me, we must have you changed at once." She started up the stairs, her nose wrinkled at the suit's briny stench. "It's bad luck to be swimming so close to the New Year, you know. The devil will pull you beneath the waters." Eleanor shuddered, thankful that she had escaped from the clutches of that devil. Then something that Madam had said struck her.

"New Year's, Madam?" she asked sweetly, silently cursing herself for sounding so subservient. Was it New Year's already? Before the though could linger, they had reached the top of the stairs. Madam turned to her and smiled knowingly. Eleanor tried to reach out to Delta for reassurance, but she felt suddenly disconnected from him, shaking her confidence.

"Well, Toad's Cove has got its own unique traditions to welcome in the new year. . . although I expect you shall learn them soon enough."

_A/N: This is my first fanfic, so I'd love to hear your reviews! And of course, BioShock is owned by 2K Marin. And I thank them for delivering this beautiful game to us mortals! :)_


	2. Hush Hush Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman

That night, Eleanor slept fitfully. Madam had dressed her in one of her old silk nightgowns, which felt slippery and foreign against her skin. Her room was small and clean, just like her room back at Aunt Gracie's. She had been given a private room on the west wing of the home, so she wouldn't be disturbed. Although she thanked her host profusely, she was secretly terrified of spending the night alone and apart from her sisters. She couldn't confess to her fear, though, so she accepted the room graciously while trembling in her too-long gown.

Eleanor was on the surface, finally, after all of these years dreaming about the sun. So why couldn't she relax? Madam turned out to be kinder than she had expected, if a little outspoken and gruff. She reminded Eleanor of Dr. Lamb, but there was something distinctly good about her. She was tough, yes, but there was no mistaking the love in her eyes while she played with the little sisters.

Eleanor didn't quite know what to make of this contradictory nature. She thought she had human nature figured out. Father was good and kind, Dr. Lamb was evil and heartless. Her observations of Madam alone seemed to undermine everything she had learned from Rapture. How much more, she wondered, was there to learn about the world? She was clever and smart, and worshiped as a deity down in Rapture, but she was obviously going to have to try harder than that up among the surfacers.

Around midnight, a chirping noise just outside her window startled Eleanor out of her restless sleep. She sat up and leaned against the wall, looking out at the half moon hanging in the sky. The moon, why hadn't anyone ever told her about the moon? In her dreams, there was only the sun, bright and beckoning. As it turned out, the sun was too bright, too harsh on her eyes, which were accustomed to the dimly-lit Rapture. While Eleanor was still in her escape pod, she would retreat to the lower chambers during the day, coming out in the evening to watch the sun go down and the luminous moon take its place. Its presence felt comforting, as Delta's did.

She smiled as she felt a deep slumbering in the back of her conscious which could only be Delta. Although she couldn't communicate with him through words, she felt his thoughts, and he felt hers. At first, she hadn't been sure if the process had been a success. Then, she had felt a sudden inner calm, which she knew came from Delta. During that terrible storm, she and her little sisters were guided to safety by Delta's invisible hand, landing on the shores of this little village.

The man who had let them in later introduced himself as Johnny, and was every bit as kind as he seemed. Maisie turned out to be another resident at the house, only a few years older than Eleanor and startlingly pretty. Down in Rapture, everyone was – or had been, before they began splicing up – a pristine, nonthreatening shade of white. Maisie had a clear, youthful complexion – something Eleanor hadn't seen for a long time while surrounded by grotesque splicers – and beautiful brown skin – something Eleanor had never seen down in Rapture. She looked like she could be one of the dancers that used to be so popular before the war. A halo of black hair surrounded her delicate face, which had broken into an enchanting smile immediately upon seeing Eleanor. She had felt very plain in comparison, but found it difficult not to adore Maisie and her uplifting cheer.

Father, I'll do my best to make you proud, thought Eleanor fiercely. Right now, her responsibility was to keep her little sisters safe and happy. They certainly seemed safe, and were more than happy to be spoiled with Maisie's treats and Johnny's piggyback rides.

Just then, Eleanor heard a loud thump outside of her door. She leapt to her feet and swung the door open to the sound of retreating footsteps. She peered into the corridor nervously, then heard another thump. It had come from inside the wall, there was no doubt about it.

That was it. She slammed the door shut, not caring who it woke up, and crouched in her bed, petrified, for the rest of the night. The door in the room next to hers opened and closed, almost too quietly. As if somebody didn't want her to hear, didn't want her to wake up. Eleanor suddenly felt very cold. She pulled the covers closer to her chin, quieting her breath so she could hear more clearly.

A floorboard creaked, the curtains rustled, a hand rapped at the window. Her heart jumped in her throat. A hand? Had the splicers come for her? No, no, it was just a branch, she uncomfortably assured herself. For a good fifteen minutes, there was no noise at all. It was eerie. Something knew she was listening, and stopped doing whatever it was that it had been doing. To think that someone was thinking about her thinking about them, listening to her, _watching her_. . . Eleanor stopped herself, shuddering at the thought. Then, just when she thought she would die of morbid anticipation, she heard a loud thump on the wall just by her head, and passed out mercifully out of fear and sheer exhaustion.

_A/N: Sorry this isn't longer! I actually had this one finished, and couldn't find a way to stretch it out. You'll have to excuse my shoddy writing. I promise a lengthy third chapter! Until then, read and review please!  
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	3. Dawn of a New Day

The next morning, Eleanor awoke to find herself staring into the indigo depths of the ocean. She was drowning. Rapture had come for her and she was back in its clutches. Then the navy inferno yelped, and leaped back, and Eleanor realized where she was. A boy stood in front of her dressed in an oversized striped nightshirt and set of pants, looking at the floor with apparently great interest.

"Did-did you want to come eat with us? Only it's only me and my grandmother at the moment, because Johnny and Maisie took your sisters out to town, so it's not much of a crowd – I can bring you your meal, if you'd like –!" The boy paused midsentence to look up, peering at Eleanor fearfully through startlingly violet eyes. He blinked quickly, then diverted his gaze to the rug again. Eleanor peered at him curiously, feeling an odd mingling of pity and interest. Why was her mind so foggy? Had she had a bad dream? "Sorry to bother you," he mumbled in apology, running a white hand through his translucent hair. He tugged at one wavy lock nervously, expectantly glancing at Eleanor.

"Grandmother?" she asked, curious.

"Erm, yes. You probably know her as Madame."

So this was Madame's grandson. From her grand appearance, Eleanor expected a grandson of hers to be more outspoken. She gazed deeply at the boy, her expression softening at his tangible apprehension. Her head felt heavy from the lack of sleep, but she managed to smile at this strange boy. He gaped slightly in shock, cheeks flushed, and smiled sheepishly.

Eleanor felt something almost maternal stirring within her. Perhaps this was how Tenenbaum felt with the little sisters back in Rapture. Eleanor felt Delta's dull warning, but chose to trust this surfacer. Something about him seemed fragile. His skin was pale, almost unhealthily so, stretched taut over his elfishly high cheekbones and pointed chin. His hair was not transparent, as she had assumed, but the same whitish blonde as Madame's and cut into neat, whispery fine locks. His shirt was too large for him and hung loose off of his gaunt upper body. Even his limbs hung limply by his sides, as though they had long forgotten their original purpose from years of neglect. She felt as though even a brief electric shock would send him crumpling to the floor.

Eleanor realized how long she had been silently staring at the boy, who was now fidgeting restlessly. "What's your name?" she asked, unsure of what else she could say. Surfacers, it seemed, had the odd habit of constantly talking, even when nothing needed to be addressed. It was as though they feared their tongues would decay from disuse.

"Alfred," he replied quietly. "You can call me Red, if you'd like." A bird chirped and Eleanor turned in time to watch a small brownish bird settle on the windowpane. It chirped again, curiously, cocking its head at Eleanor. Perhaps it senses that I am not from the land, she mused with a smile. "That's a loon," piped up Red tentatively.

"Hello, loon," said Eleanor, tilting her head to one side to imitate the bird. "I'm Eleanor." She chuckled softly, and the bird warbled happily in response. This was not the clever, quick-thinking Eleanor of Rapture. That Eleanor would not have given the loon a second glance. This new Eleanor felt strangely sweet and loving, even to this insignificant little bird. Perhaps she was still groggy from the lack of sleep.

Meanwhile, the boy continued to gaze at her. So this was the mysterious girl who had arrived so late last night. Alfred had wanted to come down and greet her, but Grandmother kept him upstairs, saying his health would suffer if he was up so late. Unable to help himself, he had crept out of his room at midnight, nearly getting lost on the way to the western wing. Just before making it down the corridor to the room where she slept, however, he had realized somebody else had decided to keep her company, and had darted back into the comforting darkness of his attic.

The easternmost inlet of Toad's Cove, where the old saltbox was located, was fairly isolated from the rest of the village. On top of that, Grandmother never let him leave the house, so he had rarely seen someone his own age before. His brief encounters with other children were limited to fleeting glimpses through the attic window, never this close and personal. Eleanor, to Alfred's inexperienced eyes, looked like one of the members of royalty depicted in his books. Grandmother had scrubbed her face clean until her cheeks shone pink, and had dressed her in an old lacy nightgown. Her soft lips were pursed in a thoughtful smile, her auburn eyes surprisingly bright considering the early hour. Her raven tresses, although slightly mussed from sleep, fell in loose waves down to her neck. Alfred was suddenly gripped with the urge to reach out and stroke her hair, then mentally berated himself for thinking such lecherous thoughts. He had been in her presence for less than an hour and already he was giving into the sinful thoughts his grandmother warned him about.

There were so many things he wanted to ask her. Where was she from? Judging from her accent, he guessed somewhere in England. But why did she leave? And why did she come to Toad's Cove, of all places? He settled on a safe question.

"I know it's not polite to ask a woman what her age is –" he smiled apologetically at Eleanor's puzzled expression "– but may I ask how old you are?" Alfred paused. "Johnny's always looking for able-bodied helpers in his shop, if you're old enough. . . I'm sure you're old enough!" he blurted. He felt a flush creeping up his neck. He had just called her able-bodied and old. Perhaps jumping out of the window would be the ideal exit in this situation.

Eleanor couldn't understand why such a harmless question would be considered impolite, but chose to dismiss it as another odd surfacer custom. "I'm seventeen, nearly eighteen. How about you, Alfred? "

His heart sank slightly. "I'm fifteen, almost sixteen." He tried to sound cheerful.

"When do you turn sixteen?"

"Four months, near the end of March." He sighed. "You're right tall, then. How tall are you?"

Eleanor had to think. She couldn't recall the last time she had had her height checked. "168 centimeters it was, the last time I checked." After performing several quick conversions in his head, Alfred felt his already pitiable levels of self-confidence shoot down to somewhere in his bowels.

"164," he replied despondently. Fantastic. He was shorter _and _younger than the girl of his dreams. What a way to woo a woman. It had to be her, huh, he conceded.

Eleanor laughed. "You sound so. . . sad." It was such a simple emotion. She was almost surprised to find it here on the surface, where sadness went with hopefulness and anger went with lust.

Alfred bristled. What was that supposed to mean? Was his pathetic self that humorous to her? "Sorry?"

"No, no, it's just the first straightforward emotion I've seen since coming up here." She grimaced. She had said too much. Thankfully, it appeared that Alfred hadn't heard that last part.

A chance to change the subject, he thought. Excellent. "Where _are_ you from, anyways?" He took in Eleanor's brief frown with a combination of pleasure that he had been able to elicit a reaction from her and guilt for having irritated or saddened her.

Where was Dr. Lamb from? Eleanor couldn't seem to remember ever hearing about her mother's childhood, only her education and the value of it. "Oxford," she replied without thinking. A boy from a small village on the Atlantic seaboard would almost certainly not be familiar with the city, she was certain.

"Did you know that the world's second-oldest university is located in Oxford?" replied Alfred happily. His extensive collection of encyclopedias had some purpose after all.

No, she didn't know and she didn't care. "Of course I knew that," Eleanor snapped a bit too harshly. Seeing the boy's worried face, she took a deep breath and replied more softly. "My mother studied medicine at Oxford. I lived there, at the university, with her. She never let me leave." Did that sound too bitter? "For my own protection," she added quickly. That definitely sounded hostile.

Alfred sighed. "Grandmother keeps me inside as well. She says my condition will worsen if I go outside."

"Well, I'm free now," said Eleanor quietly, looking down. She had escaped from Rapture, she had escaped from Dr. Lamb. She was on the surface, having a normal conversation with a normal boy in a normal village. Somehow, even normal felt stifling, like buttoning up a shirt to the very top. "I need to undo some buttons," she declared.

"Wh-what?" Alfred nearly choked. He was about to protest when Eleanor continued.

"I need to change out of this nightgown and go outside," she explained to Alfred's relief. "What sort of condition is it that's preventing you from leaving?"

Alfred shrugged. As if he knew. Grandmother rarely talked to him as it was, and simply ignored him when he asked her about his illness. "I wouldn't have any idea. All I know is that no doctor can come up with a cure, and that the fresh sea air here is good for me." He scowled. "And the isolation, too, apparently." He shook his head. What was he thinking? It was all for his own good, he knew that. "And besides, I can see the entire village from my window," he added with a slight smile, more for his own benefit than anything else.

This caught Eleanor's interest. "Really?" she asked. "Show me." She rose from bed and gestured towards the door. What did this little town hold, she wondered. She hadn't forgotten Madame's words so soon. And perhaps it would do her well to scope the area out before exploring on her own.

Alfred motioned for her to go ahead. "After you." He smiled sadly and followed Eleanor into the hall. I can see them, he thought, but nobody else can see me.

_A/N: As promised, this chapter is longer! I debated with keeping this for a few days while working on the fourth chapter, but decided to upload it. What's the use in withholding chapters, right?_

_Toad's Cove, where the story is located, is the archaic name for a real-life village on the Atlantic seaboard (bonus points if you can guess its modern-day name!). I knew very little about the area and what it was like in the 1960s / 1970s, so I had to do some extensive research to prevent any factual errors in the story. That said, most geographical details will be not be overly specific and will be kept intentionally vague, so any references to real people or places is purely coincidental._

_The one exception is the the red saltbox that the boarders reside in. That is based off of a real residence (to my knowledge, it is uninhabited) in the area._

_I had a lot of fun doing research for this story and getting it to fit in with the convoluted tales surrounding Rapture, and writing it, seeing it come to life, is amazingly rewarding. So with that, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it :)_


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